Bitter Denial
by SlvrSoleAlchmst1
Summary: [Some shounen ai: Athrun x Yzak] Yzak loathes Athrun Zala with all of his being, but finds himself inexplicably drawn to him as new circumstances bring them together in a petty argument, started by the vengeful Yzak himself.
1. Raging Fire

The doorframe shivered in its foundation in the starchy white wall, as the silvery haired youth took out his anger by slamming the door shut behind him as he stormed his way out of the room. His exit had been tinted with his vile temper once again, and this time Yzak feared he may have let his arrogance carry him too far into deep water. Then again, he could not take any more. He could not.

"That insufferable Athrun Zala," he cursed the azure-eyed boy as he marched down the hall of their Nazca class spaceship in a foul rage.

"Yzak!" The door that was now fading into the distance was flung open again, and a darker skinned, blonde boy of his own age slid out into the hall and closed the door with a dry click, hurrying to catch up.

"What is it, Dearka?" Yzak answered his friend with a hint of annoyance.

"You didn't have to do that," Dearka accused with a frown as he fell into step beside him.

"Then what would you suggest?" the pale haired young man countered. "He's made a fool of me again! That idiot is going to get us all killed with his worthless ideals, and the Commander is lapping it all up like a lovable pet. It's disgraceful."

"No doubt it is," Dearka agreed, his face tightening into one of barely controlled temper. "I was hit just as hard as you were. But we should bide our time. If anybody notices we're up to something…" He trailed off, allowing his companion to fill in his own blanks.

The two came to a fork in the hall. Dearka gripped the railing and guided himself to the left as he began to drift lazily through the air in the lack of gravity.

He winked at Yzak. "I dunno what you're gonna do, but make sure you tell me. Don't forget I want to get back at Zala just as much as you do."

Yzak waved distractedly and brushed him off. "Whatever. I'll be back later."

He took the opposite corridor, the one on the right, and floated aimlessly, his thoughts concentrated on one thing and one thing only: Revenge. Athrun would have to pay for allowing the pilot of the Strike to live. It was because of the Strike's filthy pilot that Yzak now grimaced with pain whenever he thought of what his right eye must look like now, after the accident.

He placed a pale hand subconsciously over the ridged scar. "Athrun," he muttered.

To his great surprise, as he rounded the next corner, he nearly ran right into the sapphire haired Coordinator. Athrun Zala had his back to him - he gazed out the window at the inky blackness of space, his eyes stopping to focus now and then on a faintly twinkling star.

"Enjoying the view?" Yzak asked him bitterly, startling his adversary out of his silent contemplation.

"Yzak," Athrun said incredulously, his aquamarine eyes widening in astonishment.

"Feh, don't get excited," he snorted, crossing his arms and taking in his foe's casual appearance. Athrun had left through the back door of the meeting room and already changed from his red ZAFT uniform to a more comfortable outfit. Yzak frowned. Was he so superior that he could shed his uniform on a whim, whilst the rest of them were forced to endure the uncomfortable stitching all day long?

"Yzak, look," the blue haired youth started, "I didn't mean to get you into so much trouble. It's just that I -"

"Shut up," Yzak exploded. "You have no right to stand there and expect that I'll accept an apology from you. What makes you think…" he made his way closer until he and Athrun were almost nose-to-nose, "…that you're so much better than me?"

"I never said I was better, Yzak," Athrun stated calmly without moving a muscle. Although he appeared cool and collected, his shimmering eyes flashed in silent anger.

Yzak took a step back and sneered. "Oh, but you're thinking it, aren't you? Well, treasure it Zala, because pretty soon the people on this ship will be taking orders from me, and you'll be left behind with the rest of the incompetent fools aboard this vessel."

"I'm not like you," Athrun said quietly, "So don't dare assume that I'm basking in this victory. We had to take people's lives. I refuse to revel in a false triumph while others are suffering."

Yzak studied him for a moment, and the two exchanged glares in silence.

"Right," Yzak sneered, "But make no mistake, I'll have you cornered one of these days."

He backed Athrun against the clear window, placing one palm lightly on the glass and boxing him in.

Athrun froze. "Yzak, what are you -"

"Shut up."

The silver haired boy caught the other's lips in a forceful lock. His pale hair brushed the opposite boy's cheek. Athrun jumped slightly, quite unprepared for such a move, but the irate pilot of the Duel held him steady with his free hand. Releasing him shortly afterward, Yzak smirked and continued his way down the hall.

"Do you see how irritating you are, Athrun?" he called. "You make me so damn angry sometimes, that I just can't seem to stay away from you."

Athrun swiped the back of his hand roughly over his mouth, horrified that somewhere in the depths of his mind and body, he had barely been able to resist that.

"Damn you, Yzak…"


	2. Cooling Sea

Yzak heard Athrun's quiet curse as he rounded the corner and sped back to his room, breathing hard. What had he just done? It was no wonder the son of the renowned Patrick Zala was cursing him.

He had not meant to do that. He had merely meant to taunt the blue-eyed boy, to anger him until he felt what Yzak himself had felt every day since he'd been forced to cooperate with his adversary. Why then, had he made such a stupid move?

Yzak jumped as something just outside his range of vision stirred behind him. He whirled around in a panic, only to find Dearka standing right behind him, hands resting on his narrow hips while watching him through slitted eyelids.

"What do you want?" Yzak shot, in relief more than anger. "Don't do that."

Dearka shrugged. "Just wondering how it went."

Yzak averted his eyes, trying to escape the blonde's probing gaze. "Just buzz off."

"I knew it," Dearka smirked in triumph. "You're acting funny. What'd you do, Yzak?"

Yzak emitted a low growl. "Nothing. Forget about it. It's _not_ important." He stormed across the room to the bathroom and grabbed a towel.

"Shower?" Dearka inquired, slowly making his way across the room to join Yzak at the bathroom door.

"What else?" the white haired youth barked in irritation.

Dearka raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Geez." Yzak shuffled aimlessly around the confined space, looking for the shampoo, and after a pause the blonde boy spoke again in a sly tone. "Something happen between you and Zala?"

Yzak's hand came crashing down onto the countertop, and Dearka jumped. "I told you to _forget it_," the irate pilot of the Duel spat through gritted teeth.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dearka responded with a wry grin. "Let me know when you decide to fess up. I'm sure not going anywhere now that I know you pulled something, at least not until I find out what it was."

The look on Yzak's face was one of maniacal outrage. "Get out," he said in a voice as calm as he could muster under the circumstances. For Dearka's sake, he hoped the blonde knew when to give it a rest.

The tanned youth raised his hands in a sign of surrender, and Yzak flung the door shut immediately, slamming it in his friend's face.

He started the water, and it hissed softly while steam poured out from over the top of the plastic curtain. As the scalding water trickled down over his forehead, Yzak squinted his eyes shut and his fist collided with the tiled wall.

He bit back a yell. What had he done?


	3. Shifting Earth

After a lengthy shower hot enough to boil a lobster, Yzak switched the faucet to cold. The fat droplets spilled over his body, drawing shivers as the sudden change in temperature left him gasping for air. With a final deep breath, the silver haired boy shut off the water and stepped out onto the mat, wrapping himself slowly in a white towel.

He felt better. He'd stayed in so long he'd nearly drowned himself, but he felt better.

He had decided that perhaps he ought to tell Dearka of his actions after all. Though he bombarded Dearka with a constant barrage of death threats on a daily basis, Yzak trusted him. Dearka was smug and arrogant, but nevertheless, he was the only one that Yzak allowed near him while his walls were down.

After giving his pale hair a last squeeze, he opened the door and stepped out into his room. His eyes flicked around the area as he attempted to locate Dearka, but instead his blue eyes fell on someone else. Yzak nearly lost his balance.

"Athrun!"

The young Coordinator turned to look at him from his spot where he lounged on the sofa, spinning away the moment he clapped eyes on his enemy, clad in only a towel.

"Yzak…Sorry, I didn't know you were…"

"That's not…Who let you in here?" Yzak already knew the answer, but he dreaded it just the same.

"Dearka did," came Athrun's offhand reply, as he shifted position on the couch.

"I'll murder that stupid bastard," he muttered, vowing to take his revenge whenever the meddling blonde returned.

To his surprise, Athrun chuckled. Yzak stared.

"You two are always fighting," the azure-eyed youth observed with another chuckle, "But I think you get along better with Dearka more than anyone else aboard this whole ship."

His eyes glittered in amusement, and Yzak felt weak in the knees as he watched him. Athrun sat casually leaning against one arm of the sofa, legs crossed elegantly at the knees. He looked relaxed, refined, and confident as he always did, yet something was different.

Yzak left the room without a word, disappearing around the corner. Athrun waited patiently for him to return. When he did, he appeared in a clean ZAFT uniform, and he took a seat on the chair across from the talented pilot of the Aegis with curiosity.

"So," Yzak started tentatively, astonished that he had even been able to speak. "Why did you come here?"

Athrun caught his gaze and held it intently. "You tell me, Yzak."

The white haired boy's brow furrowed, and his tone picked up a dangerous tint. "Don't play games with me, Zala." A sudden thought occurred to him, and he switched topics sharply. "The pilot of the Strike – who is he?"

He watched Athrun's flawless features undergo numerous changes of expression, finally landing on an expression heavy with regret.

"Kira," he said quietly, struggling to find the right words. "He is – was – a friend of mine, and a Coordinator like us."

Athrun's look was pained, but Yzak couldn't resist a smug response nonetheless.

"A Coordinator fighting for the Earth Forces? He must be a fool to join the Naturals."

Athrun grimaced. "It's true Kira's a fool. But he said something about having people to protect."

"You're going to have to take him down, Zala," Yzak stated bluntly. "Either you finish it, or I do. Don't expect me to go easy next time."

Something in the sapphire haired boy's face suggested that he would not protest. Yzak fidgeted nervously in the silence that ensued.

"Yzak," Athrun finally began in a stronger voice, "What I really came here for was to apologize. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is ask for you to forgive me, but we can't afford to have bad relations among our own forces. This is a war. We need to be allies, not enemies."

"You think it's that easy?" Yzak replied angrily.

"Yes."

Yzak faltered, at a loss for words. He was on the verge of yelling, but instead he let out a long sigh. "You take this all too casually, Zala."

"I have my reasons." He paused. "So before, in the hall….Why did you…?"

Yzak's stomach did a flip-flop. "Shut up! Don't flatter yourself, you idiot. It was nothing." He turned his head aside and avoided the other's gaze.

"Nothing, huh?" there was a hint of amusement in Athrun's steady voice, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead he stood and walked to the door. "I'll see you at the meeting then."

Yzak struggled inwardly as Athrun's hand reached the knob. The blue haired Coordinator was halfway out the door.

"Athrun."

"…Yes?"

"You know, you really piss me off."

Athrun's mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. "Whatever you say, Yzak."


	4. Freezing Rain

Athrun released the knob and let the door swing shut, while Yzak watched, allowing some of the tension to run out of his shoulders. He was about to get up and pace the room, but he started as a foot jammed itself between the door and the frame to prevent the door from clicking shut.

Yzak stared at the foot with a frown. "Dearka," he growled as a messy blonde head poked itself around the corner and grinned slyly.

"Just saw Zala walk out of here like a kid who snagged a cookie from the top shelf," he said. "I see you've been busy."

"Shut up," Yzak muttered, then remembered he was supposed to be livid. "Damn you, Dearka."

The tanned youth raised a questioning eyebrow in mock surprise. "Well, my oh my. I don't think I deserved that." He paused to cherish the look on the silver haired boy's face before continuing. "I wonder how he even got in here?"

"You…" Yzak fumed, lacking the motivation to say anything else.

Dearka usually enjoyed pushing the hot-tempered boy's buttons, but this time he stopped and collapsed onto the sofa where Athrun had sat only moments before.

"So _now_ will you tell me what happened?" Dearka tensed in annoyance as he was met by silence. "You might as well spit it out, Yzak. I've already got a pretty good idea of what went on between the two of you."

Yzak's face was ashen. "What do _you_ know?" he shot as his voice wavered, "You've been gone. Don't make idiotic assumptions."

Dearka sighed. "At least it wasn't so bad that you can't yell at me about it." He took a casual sip of the lemonade he'd taken with him from the mess hall.

"I kissed him, Dearka."

Lemonade flew everywhere as the blonde boy went into a fit of choking. Yzak couldn't tell whether he was laughing or just responding in shock, but it didn't matter because the moment the Buster's pilot had the use of his lungs back at normal status, he looked at him incredulously and spoke.

"Excuse me, Yzak? I thought I heard you say you…"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Elsman. You know what I said."

Dearka's lips went taught in a look of nervous agitation. "You have got to be kidding me, Yzak."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Yzak hollered, pacing the room back and forth. "Don't make me hurt you."

"Why?"

"Because if you can't keep your stupid comments to yourself, I'm going to make you pay."

"No, idiot – Why did you kiss Athrun?"

Yzak flinched at the words. "I…don't know. He annoys me. I hate him. He's like an insect I want to crush beneath the heel of my foot, and then watch wriggle until he dies. Damn that stuck up little…"

But when Yzak glanced up, preparing to hear his friend make another smart remark, instead he was met by the shining eyes of the other as a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face.

"You like him," Dearka stated plainly in a nonchalant monotone.

Dearka did not think it was possible for Yzak to get any paler, but he watched in astonishment as his friend sank weakly into a chair and pursed his lips.

"Christ, Yzak…You don't look good. What the hell's the matter with you?" There was no response. "Geezus, why don't you just tell him?"

Yzak had buried his face in his hands, but his head snapped up the moment the absurd suggestion reached his ears. "You really are a worthless fool, Dearka."

"Fine. Have it your way, Yzak. But I think you should. The two of you could have a lot more fun that way," he threw the downtrodden boy a scandalous wink.

"Get out," Yzak protested in disgust.

"It's my room too, lover boy."

"Get _out_."

Dearka rolled his eyes and silently complied. Yzak breathed a sigh of relief, but the relief did not last long. Maybe he needed another shower.


	5. Burning Sunrise

Athrun had barely closed the door to his room when it burst open and Yzak tumbled in. The azure haired youth was less than three paces from the door himself, for he'd just walked in, and the lights were still off. He hadn't even gotten to turn them on, and Yzak was already back to debate some matter or another.

"Athrun Zala," came the bold cry.

Athrun placed his keys carefully on the table, but kept his back turned as he replied.

"What is it, Yzak?" he said warily.

Yzak struggled to catch his breath. The moment Dearka had removed his sluggish carcass from their room, Yzak had shot out the back door and sped to Athrun's.

Now Yzak found himself at a loss for words. What was he doing, running out to find Athrun like it was the most important thing in the world? They were fighting a war; he ought to have been training, or at least getting some sleep.

The pool of yellow light from the hallway reflected off the blue of Athrun's hair, making it gleam. He stood tall and erect, waiting patiently for Yzak to answer.

Yzak hesitated and took a better look at his adversary. Athrun was perfect. He'd always been perfect, and Yzak had always had to struggle just to keep his position as mere second best. It seemed no matter how hard he strove to outdo the clever young Coordinator, he never could. Athrun surpassed him each time with skill and ease. Yzak started as he suddenly detected the presence of another emotion stemming from within him. Jealousy?

He was jealous? Of Athrun Zala? _Never_. His hands went cold and the knob slipped from his grip. The door clicked shut behind him, and the room was left in total darkness. Athrun spun around to face him, but made no move to turn the lights on.

"Yzak?"

It was just as well that they couldn't see each other. Yzak's control wavered. If he'd had to look at the beautiful form of his worst enemy a second longer, he didn't know what would have happened. He held his breath as he felt Athrun take a step toward him.

He finally found his voice. "About earlier…"

"When you…"

"Yes." Yzak grimaced and cut him off before he had to relive the event a third time. "I thought about it."

Athrun paused only a moment before speaking. "And?"

"I don't know what came over me. One minute I was angry with you, the next…"

Athrun didn't ask him to explain further. Instead, he seemed to heft the issue onto his own shoulders.

"I never tried to make you angry, Yzak," he said quietly. "I wanted us all to get along - you, me, and Dearka and Nicol. But for some reason, no matter what I did, you hated me. I never meant to do anything that would make you dislike me the way you do. Even so, I'm sorry that I've upset you. I just want you to let me know what I've done, so that I'll be sure never to do it again, Yzak. We can't stay enemies forever like this."

Yzak clenched his fist. It pained him to hear Athrun speak those words. All this time, he'd been selfish, thinking that he was the one suffering, when it was Athrun who had been hurt the most by their petty arguments. Even with such a heavy burden, the sapphire-eyed boy had bared it with a soft smile, never allowing the turmoil to rise to the surface. Yzak's face burned with shame. Athrun was truly a man worthy of being admired, and Yzak did not know how to redeem himself after causing so much trouble.

"Athrun, I'm sorry." Yzak was stunned at his own words. He could not remember the last time he'd ever uttered an apology to anyone.

"For what?" Athrun's voice rose an octave in his confusion. "_I'm_ the one apologizing to _you_."

"I don't deserve it."

"Yzak…"

Yzak couldn't take it any more. One more kind word, one more tender phrase escaping those lips, and he would break. He prayed that Athrun wouldn't say any more, prayed that he would accept the answer he'd provided. He was incapable of filling the empty silence himself, and he hoped the blue haired youth would leave it at that.

Athrun let out a low, cautious laugh. "You never cease to surprise me, Yzak."

The silver haired Gundam pilot cursed himself inwardly as he melted at the sound of Athrun's voice.

"Just shut up." He hadn't meant to respond that way, but his nerves took hold of him before he could stop himself. Then, "Sorry."

Athrun chuckled. "No problem," he said. "After all, I hear it from you all the time." His tone was light and teasing. "The barrage of apologies is new, however."

"Shit," Yzak muttered. At that moment, his resolve seemed to crumble.

Before he realized what was happening, he'd wrapped one arm around the other boy's slender waist and caught his lips in a kiss for the second time. This time, Athrun made no move to resist, and Yzak ran a hand through his silky hair as they stood there, frozen in the darkness. He memorized Athrun's touch, the softness of his lips, his taste. Then he let go.

"I suppose," Athrun was breathless, "That this means we're on better terms?"

Yzak's stomach fluttered. "What do you think, Athrun Zala?"

Athrun's mouth curled into a slight grin, and Yzak laughed openly. The two of them looked at each other as their eyes adjusted to the blackness that surrounded them.

"Well, Yzak Joule," came the sure response, "I think we'll be fine for a while."

END


End file.
